


Smooth Glass

by Emanating_Auras



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira is not ok, Dark Kurusu Akira, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lots of Angst, Panic Attacks, Protective Sojiro Sakura, Self-Harm, Sojiro is a good dad, Trigger warning for sensitive subjects, there's a reason I separated Akechi and the Phantom Thieves :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-01-01 08:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 12,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18332720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emanating_Auras/pseuds/Emanating_Auras
Summary: Akira is the leader of the Phantom Thieves. He’s smart, strong, and fiercely protective of his teammates. Not only that, but he’s kind, and is always willing to help others.But each of them pick up something unsettling from him.Or,Each teammate(+Sojiro)’s introspection on Akira and his bizarre, worrying behaviour.





	1. Sojiro Sakura

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, this is my first fic on ao3. I hope you enjoy!

At first, Sojiro didn’t think much of the kid.

 All he really knew was that the kid was dangerous. After all, he had been sent away from his parents because of assault on his criminal record.

 When the kid stepped into Leblanc, Sojiro felt a flicker of surprise. He was hunched over, staring at his phone. He wouldn’t say anything, only numbly responding to Sojiro’s words. 

 Come to think of it, he had been a little harsh on the kid. 

 And, as Akira spent more time in Leblanc, Sojiro noticed some... things. He’d classified them as nervous tics.

 Once, he’d knocked on the door to Leblanc at night. Akira had jumped in surprise, knocking over a chair and a table. He was  surprised how much the kid was spooked by that, so he made sure not to come back to Leblanc after dark. It seemed to help.

The kid flinched at the smallest gestures. Sojiro was talking to him, making idle conversation, while he was shelving food. As he raised his hand to put the soy sauce back on the shelf, he caught Akira flinching. Not wanting to trigger it again, but at the same time worried and curious, he raised his hand to put the pasta sauce back on the shelf. Sure enough, Akira flinched again.

And the kid seemed to be increasingly tired. Every morning he’d come out of his room looking like death warmed over. Sojiro didn’t have the guts to ask the kid, but those dark bags under his eyes were becoming increasingly larger, and he was worried.

All these things stacked together, weighing on his mind. He was no psychologist, but knew this was not healthy behaviour. Sojiro was trying to help, be someone that the kid could trust, but well...

It was too late.

 


	2. Ryuji Sakamoto

Ryuji knew he was pretty dense. He had always been called that by his friends and his family, but he didn’t mind. Denseness was part of his personality. But even he wasn’t dense enough not to realise that Akira was... off.

It first started when they stumbled across Kamoshida’s Palace by accident. They’d been locked up, and in desperation and panic, Akira had managed to awaken his Persona. Reminiscing on that day, he realised just how scary Akira was. When he snapped the chains between him and Arsene, that look on his face, though a smile, wasn’t joy. If Ryuji had to put it, he’d describe it as vengeful anger.

Only three people on Earth had experienced Akira’s awakening: Kamoshida, who was locked up in prison; Akira, who he couldn’t ask for fear of sounding suspicious, and himself. He’d never told anyone about Akira’s awakening, but the memory still chilled him to the bone.

But that wasn’t the last time he saw that expression on his face. Not long after, when Kamoshida collapsed, that dark look returned, and this time, Morgana and Ann were there to witness it too. If they noticed anything though, they didn’t say. 

And again, when Madarame was defeated. That dark satisfaction returned again, excitement flashing through his features. He wasn’t sure exactly  _what_ Akira was excited about, but he grew increasingly concerned. 

The same with Kaneshiro, and recently, Wakaba Isshiki from Futaba’s Palace. Ryuji would bet his entire house that Akira would show that expression again when they took down Okumura.

Ryuji _knew_ all of this, and he had tried to help, but well...

He couldn’t do it in time.


	3. Morgana

Morgana didn’t know a lot of things.

He didn’t know who he was,  _what_ he was, his purpose in this world, or his connection to the Metaverse and Mementos.

One of the things he did know, however, was how Akira was hurting.

It started small, really; Morgana had woken up to Akira screaming at night, breathless, sweaty, and pale. Morgana had expressed concern for the teen, worried that this would affect his sleep schedule and his energy levels during the day. Akira had reassured him that it was a one-time thing; he was just shaken up from defeating Kamoshida.

In hindsight, Morgana wasn’t sure why he believed him. Maybe it was him just being lazy.

After that, no more nightmares came. Or so it seemed. As they defeated Madarame, Kaneshiro, and recently Wakaba Isshiki, Akira seemed to be no worse for wear. He even smiled and laughed a lot, something Morgana noticed he didn’t really do when he first got taken in by Sojiro. The only indication something was wrong was the dark circles under Akira’s eyes, but when he thought about it, he had never seen Akira without them. So he chalked it up to Akira being chronically in need of sleep.

And of course, that was all an illusion. One night, Morgana had a particularly nasty nightmare that made the thought of sleep nauseating to him. So he stayed awake, watching the room sleepily. When that got boring, he moved to watching Akira.

What he saw (and heard) made him sick to the stomach. Akira was clenching his fists tightly, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. He was murmuring, so quietly Morgana could barely hear him, and he seemed to be in pain.

How had he not noticed before?

After that, Morgana tried to help. He fell asleep on Akira’s stomach (it was really comfy, and having a cat sleep on you basically makes nightmares impossible). He gave as much physical affection as he could, hoping it could relieve Akira’s nightmares.

He’d tried everything, but it wasn’t enough.


	4. Ann Takamaki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by a sleep-deprived author.

If you looked at first glance, Ann seemed to fit the perfect stereotype for airhead. That's what most people assumed of her, at least. However, she was more observant and intelligent than she let on, even to her friends.

Ever since joining the Phantom Thieves, she has fulfilled many roles in the team: From a healer, to a wall (absorbing the Shadow's attacks) to a flat-out offensive machine. She'd always be a healer, though, as her Persona could learn a lot of healing moves. She always noted the looks on relief on her teammate's faces as she cured them of their status ailments or closed their wounds. It gave her pride, as she was being useful to the team now.

Well, except one.

Akira displayed an almost extreme aversion to healing. It was so _odd_ that Ann would have found it comical if it was a joke, but sadly, it seemed not to be. The only spells he allowed her to use on him were status ailment cures or Recarms. No other healing.

She'd always be slightly afraid of healing him. Chances were, he wouldn't take it well.

Once, in a particularly long stretch of battling in Mementos, Akira had nearly fainted from a Shadow's Agilao, but ignored her command to "stay put! Let me heal you!" The only sort of healing he got afterward was curing his burn, but he absolutely refused everything else.

It drove her nuts. Why was Akira like this? Sure, his battle style got more ferocious and wild the more he was injured, but if he wanted to fight like that permanently, all it took was some change in tactics. There was no reason why Akira kept doing this.

And, in addition to not wanting healing, Akira also _flinched_ when he was healed forcefully. He _flinched_. 

Ann saw all of this, all under the guise of being an airhead. She had tried to help him, gently coaxing him in Diaramas and Mediaramas, but it was no use.

Because it was all too late.


	5. Yusuke Kitagawa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot Yusuke. Here’s his perspective.

Yusuke knew the horrors of Madarame’s abuse firsthand. He knew what it was like to suffer.

They all did, really. But he had never seen it more pronounced than with their leader. 

His body language constantly screamed _fear._ Which was unnatural in more ways than one, especially since it was always present no matter where he looked. But the even more unsettling part was that his body language didn’t just say _fear._ It also read _hesitation_ and _distrust._

It was like Akira didn’t trust anyone, which was odd... to say the least.

Did he trust anyone?

Either way, it scared him. Every time he Baton-Passed to Akira, he could practically feel the other boy’s hesitation to accept. Every All-Out Attack made him more fearful of him as Akira’s eyes glowed with unseen distrust, as they whirled in a tornado of attacks around the enemy. Was Akira afraid of his teammates hitting him by mistake?

Yusuke felt slightly disappointed. They’d all honed their skills well enough that they would never strike a teammate unless affected by Brainwash.

Fortunately for him, Yusuke had only seen Akira under Brainwash once. Even then, the experience still chilled him to the bone. Akira with his dark and manic grin, eyes piercing his teammate’s weaknesses...

He would pay good money to never see it again.

That cold, calculating gaze didn’t help things either. He constantly looked on guard, ready to run at a moment’s notice. That was normal during battle, but quite unsettling when engaging in casual conversation with him. 

And then there was the issue with the _Sayuri_ painting. Akira was almost ungodly afraid or disgusted (which one, he couldn’t tell) of the painting; he’d go to great lengths to avoid it, and in the short time they had to carry the painting back to Leblanc, Akira had stared at it with something akin to jealousy or disgust. As far as Yusuke knew, Akira didn’t outright hate the painting. He just didn’t want to have it in his sight.

Akira was a complex puzzle waiting to be solved. A work of art waiting for it’s meaning to be uncovered.

Well, it was no longer waiting. Yusuke had finally uncovered this art’s meaning.

But he was too late.

 


	6. Makoto Niijima

Makoto was intelligent.

No matter how she tried to spin it, people always complimented her that way: she was smart, clever, and academically gifted. Makoto always blushed at the praise, stammering weak denials. Ashamed as she was to admit it, it was true.

But what use was academics when your best friend and teammate was _off_?

It started as a few (dozen) odd things.

Akira had... triggers. Things that set him off or caused uncomfortable reactions. Once, when Makoto concluded a meeting just before infiltrating Futaba’s Palace, she clapped her hands. It wasn’t anything special, as she was the president of the student council, she used to clap her hands to conclude a meeting. It was a habit.

And Akira _flinched._  Subtle, but to her own perceptive eyes, obvious enough. She didn’t try to pry at it, so she let him be. Soon, she forgot about it.

And then something happened again. This time, in Mementos. Akira directed the Mona-bus towards a particularly powerful Shadow, wanting to take him down and get stronger. Reasonable enough. So her, Akira, Yusuke, and Ryuji engaged the Shadow. It was a difficult enough battle as it was, but it didn’t help that the Shadow was trash-talking them too. Insulting their mothers, calling them useless, that sort of thing. It made Makoto furious, and from the looks on their friend’s face, they were pissed. With renewed energy, Makoto’s Freidyne finally managed to fell the Shadow. They all sighed in relief.

As they boarded the Mona-bus, Akira started shaking. He boarded the back of the bus, curling up into a ball. Concerned, Makoto clambered into the back with him, and found him mid-panic attack. Not exactly sure what to do, Makoto gripped his hand, telling him to take deep breaths. It managed to calm him down. Akira managed to stammer out that the Shadow’s words had shaken him up, brought up things that it shouldn’t have. Makoto gently chattered with him until he could battle again, and the incident was left at that.

And though nothing serious happened again, little things like flinching happened a lot. Whenever Ryuji yelled excitedly, Makoto slammed her hands on the table calling for quiet, or Futaba berating him for reckless manuveres. Makoto didn’t know exactly what caused Akira to be like this, but she tried to help. She tried to remove the triggers. She shushed Ryuji, didn’t slam her hands against the table, and told Futaba to be gentle with him. She _tried_ to help him...

But it was too late.


	7. Futaba Sakura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote Haru before Futaba, oops. Futaba best girl

Futaba was scared.

Fear was nothing new to her; every day in her prison, she had cried, releasing _incredible, overwhelming guilt_ , fear that no one would accept her, fear that _everyone hates her_.

After the Phantom Thieves changed her heart, it felt like a burden had been lifted from her chest. Finally, she didn’t have to live every day with _fear_ and _guilt_  breathing down her spine. It was liberating, and she relished the feeling. 

Well...

She wasn’t exactly free of fear. That was a staple in the Phantom Thieves’ lifestyle. However, she saw something in their leader that made her afraid, more than ever.

Joker. Was. Angry. And he made use of it well.

It started when he was facing down her m— the _Shadow_  of her mother, shortly after she had awakened Necromicon. Joker’s eyes burned, full of fierce anger so intimidating that even she shuddered inside Necromicon. His attack power increased tenfold, unleashing spell after spell at her, Agilaos and Bufulas raining down, Megaton Raids sapping his health, in turn absolutely demolishing Wakaba Isshiki. Ryuji, Makoto, and Morgana’s damage output was nothing compared to him.

Futaba wasn’t sure why he was fighting so hard. Was he angry? If so, what for? 

Later, after she had officially joined the Phantom Thieves, she kept a lookout for more behaviour similar to before. He didn’t seem nearly as aggressive as he was in her Palace, but still powerful. Futaba kept waiting, and soon she saw that display of anger again.

This time they were hunting down Hifumi Togo’s mother, Mitsuyo Togo. Mitsuyo Togo was a horrible woman, setting up exhibition matches and rigging the results to set up Hifumi as an idol. It was disgusting, and by the looks of it it disgusted her teammates too. Then, that anger returned. Joker felled the Shadow easily with a couple Tempest Slashes, saving his teammates the trouble of dodging around it’s Magarulas and Bufudynes. During this battle, Joker’s anger returned, and his attacks were reckless and uncoordinated. He spent more health than necessary on Tempest Slashes. It almost seemed that he was enjoying ripping the Shadow to shreds, which was... odd.

And again, when they were dealing with Shinya’s mother, Hanae Oda. He became reckless again, fighting wildly and without regard for his own health. It was concerning.

And now that they had just finished Okumura, and waiting for the fallout, she could spend some more time helping Joker and finding out what was going on with his misdirected anger. Or was it misdirected? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t know how to help, but she tried anyway, gently coaxing him for the truth.

Well, _tried_. Her effort was for nothing, because it was too late.

 

 

 


	8. Haru Okumura

Haru was quiet.

As such, she was often overlooked; people barely even noticed her in Shujin’s hallways, and it was only the recent trend of the Phantom Thieves targeting Okumura that she became known as “daughter of Okumura Food’s CEO”. She liked to use this anonymity to her advantage; she stood quietly on the sidelines, watching and observing.

These observations honed her skills quite well; she fit in with the Phantom Thieves, and together they made a well-oiled machine. However, she could never have anticipated that she would use her skills on her teammates.

Well, teammate. Akira Kurusu, to be exact.

She tended to notice things that others did not: subtle twitches in Akira’s face muscles, disclosing a wide variety of emotions, from relief to anger to frustration. Empty hand gestures, which looked suspiciously like sign; nervous habits like biting on nails and tapping his feet.

Normally, she’d be able to put things together rather quickly; she had exceptional observational skills and was great at keeping it quiet, after all. But she seemed to reach a block. Akira never seemed to catch her observing her, but evidently he had noticed, as his expressions started becoming closed off, blank, and impossible to read. He forcibly stilled his nervous tics, and the only thing she could continue to observe was his nervous hand gestures.

After some books on sign language in the library, she managed to decipher some of them: things like “ _not_ _again_ ”, “ _dammit_ ”, “ _I_ _hope_ _this_ _goes_ _well_ ”. Seemed like he muttered in sign, which Haru found quite intriguing.

And then there was “ _Should_ _be_ _ok_ _now_ ”, “ _I_ _hope_ _I_ _don’t_ _see_ _her_ _here_ ”, and most worryingly “ _I_ _hate_ _him_.”

She couldn’t decipher some of the more complex signs he used, but she always wondered why he muttered in sign. There must be a reason, right?

In particular, “ _I_ _hope_ _I_ _don’t_ _see_ _her_ _here_ ” intrigued Haru. Who did he not want to see?

Well, she didn’t want to pry into his personal matters anyway. She noticed all these things with Akira, and she was determined to help him.

 _Was_ _determined_. Because now, it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ll be moving on to the second phase of the story soon! I’m excited to write the next bit :)


	9. Akira Kurusu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira does something drastic. 
> 
> Trigger warning for blood as well as self-harm, and slight suicidal thoughts.

He’s drowning.

He’s sure of it; every breath sends spikes of pain shooting through his skull. Tears blur in his eyes as he drops his phone on the ground, entire body wracking with shudders. He desperately curls into himself, but that does nothing to relieve the pain. He lets out a choked sob, nausea pooling in his stomach.

_Why? Why?_

His world feels like a house that’s been demolished, crashing down on him, _crushing_ him, _he can’t breathe, he knows he’s dying—_

Another notification pings his phone, temporarily snapping out his dark spiral. He can’t bear to even touch his phone again, knowing that her words will _poison, destroy anything they touch, she knows, she knows!_

He can still recall her face clearly, the person that has hurt him _again and again,_ knowing full well that he _can’t take it_ , yet she continues—

He _can’t take it!_ It’s tearing away at him, venomous words worming through his skin, _he knows, she knows, he is weak and pathetic, he doesn’t deserve anything!_

He tears himself off the floor, body wracked with desperate _need_ , flying across the room and letting his hand clutch the object on his desk. He yanks off the plastic covering, fingers twitching.

He sets it against his arm, dragging it harshly across his skin, relaxing slightly as red blooms across his skin, drowning out the voices in his head that tell him _he is nothing._ His breathing slows, and soon he is almost serenely watching the blood bloom across his forearm.

Inherently, he knows this is _wrong,_ but it doesn’t even hurt anymore! All it does is clear his head, letting him think without her _poison_ contaminating him. It tingles and buzzes but doesn’t hurt, and that’s what tempts him to do it again.

_Again!_ His mind whispers, and he obeys. He yanks it across his forearm again, further burying those _poisonous_ thoughts from view. The blood starts to trickle down his arm, dripping onto the floor, but he pays it no heed. He’s starting to feel a bit lightheaded, but that’s ok, he can continue, it will make him feel better—

He loses track of time, and only comes to when he feels nauseous and extremely light-headed. The red lines span his entire arm, excess dripping onto the floor into a little puddle. He starts, breath hitching at the sight of so much blood, but he can’t breathe again, his head feels light and he’s floating—

Dimly, he registers Morgana enter the room, crying out in shock; he doesn’t feel in control of his body, and he slumps over onto the floor, fingers still curled around the razor. He barely hears Morgana running down the stairs, but he comes back with Sojiro in tow.

Vaguely, he sees Sojiro’s dubious look morph into panic, and he hears footsteps padding towards him, deep and _loud_ and so reminiscent of _her_ that he chokes on the air, feels Sojiro’s hands on him, and finally, _finally,_ the darkness swallows him into it’s arms, warm and inviting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of... fun? writing this scene. It was interesting to explore Akira’s messy and disjointed thoughts, and I hope it didn’t seem too unrealistic.


	10. The Phantom Thieves

"Your name is Sojiro Sakura, yes? The patient is in room 217. He's currently still unconscious, although he should be up soon."

Sojiro let his hand curl into a fist, remembering what had happened two days ago. "Thank you," he said warily, heading towards to elevator.

_Akira clutching a razor, eyes teary and glassed-over, blood spilling on the floor--_

Futaba knocked him out of it. "Hey, Sojiro? Can I go see him?" All her usual cheeriness was gone, replaced by a downcast expression and an undertone of worry. She looked just as miserable as he felt.

"Not yet. Only one at a time." Sojiro put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, he'll be fine." Belatedly, he wondered who he was trying to convince more: himself or Futaba. "Wait here, okay? I'll be right back."

Sojiro slipped away from Futaba, who slumped back onto her chair with impatience. Sighing, he ascended the elevator, trying not to dwell on  _why_ the kid had deemed it necessary to hurt himself to that extent.

_Akira's eyes fluttering shut, dark red lines leaking blood, blood everywhere, he's lost too much--_

The elevator dinged, arriving on the 2nd floor. Sojiro briskly strode out the elevator, internally chiding himself for slipping back to last night's memories.  _Focus on the present, not the past._

Pushing open the door of ward 217, he was greeted by the sight of Akira, bandaged and lying on the hospital bed, hooked up to several IV lines, his cat curled around his torso. If it weren't for the bandages crisscrossing his arm and the fact that he was in a hospital, Sojiro might have been tempted to take a picture.

The cat seemed to stir in his presence, yawning and padding over to him, meowing furiously. He moved the shush the damn thing, but then the cat just decided to jump on his shoulder, burying it's head in the crook of his neck. Was it... crying? Still slightly in shock, he plopped down on the chair in the corner of the room, relaxing slightly as the cat purred, almost lulled to sleep by it.

_Of course, he couldn't hear Morgana, crying silently, telling him that it was his mother, sending hateful and spiteful words to him, calling him worthless, threatening to take back guardianship of him--_

Sojiro jerked awake to claws digging into his shoulder. He moved the knock the cat off, but froze halfway.

Because Akira was awake, staring at him with wide eyes, slightly there but looking blank, body tensed and looking ready to leap away from him at any second.

_Akira with blank eyes, fingers curled shut around the razor, slumping over and losing consciousness, and soon his life--_

"Kid," Sojiro began, the air thick with awkwardness. "Why?"

Akira just sighed, turning his head away from him. 

Sojiro tried again. "Please, kid. Whatever you're going through, we just want to help."

This time, Akira slumped and nodded. He opened his mouth to talk, but decided against it, simply reaching for his phone and showing his chat history to Sojiro.

" _Worthless brat!"_

_"You bring shame to our family name!"_

_"You don't deserve to live!"_

_"Our life is ruined because of you!"_

_"Just go and die. You're a waste of resources to anyone!"_

_"You deserve to be punished!"_

_"I'm going to come over and punish you personally! Don't think that you can resist, like last time!"_

_Like last time._ Sojiro put the puzzle pieces together, and felt white-hot anger shoot through his body. Was this protectiveness? God, he couldn't imagine doing that to Futaba. What kind of parent put their children through that?

Akira tapped on Sojiro's shoulder hesitantly, clearly still slightly weary of his reaction. Opening up Notes, he typed:

_Is Futaba here? Can I see her?_

Sojiro nodded, turning to leave. "Don't worry, okay? I won't let her lay a finger on you. Oh, and I'll send Futaba up."

Akira let his lips twitch upwards, relaxing back onto the bed as the soft pull of drugs lulled him to sleep.

~~Meanwhile~~

Ann: What do you mean, Futaba?

Futaba: Akira's in hospital. He's hurt, badly. Please come over at once!  _[location attached]_

Yusuke: What happened?

Ryuji: I'm heading over right now!

Futaba: It's not a good idea to discuss this over chat. Just come!

Haru: I am also making my way there. I should arrive in 10-15 minutes.

Yusuke: Very well then. I am also on my way.

Ann: I'm almost there! Futaba, you're on ground floor, right?

Futaba: Yeah, Sojiro's visiting him now.

Futaba: I'm not sure how to phrase this... but I think he hurt himself.

Futaba: Anyways, just on come over.

 


	11. The Phantom Thieves (2)

“No....no....” Haru murmured, huddling into herself. “He... really did this? Why?”

Makoto’s brain started speeding a million miles a second, while she stood there, frozen in shock. “He... what?”

Even the normally unflappable Yusuke took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief. “He did that to himself?”

Futaba nodded sadly, becoming very interested in the floor. “There was so much blood... Sojiro took him to hospital. He’s been unconscious for nearly two days.”

”Dammit!” Ryuji’s loud shout startled the others. “I’m his best friend! I should I have known!”

”Ssshhhh, Ryuji!” Ann’s face was pinched, and she looked like she was trying not to cry. “Not so loud!”

Ryuji barrelled on his rant, oblivious. “Why am I so stupid?! I should have seen the signs!”

”Ryuji!” Makoto scolded, putting her hands on his shoulders. “I know this is upsetting, but _it’s not your fault._ He hid it so well from us that we couldn’t see it!”

“Except we could.” Haru murmured gently. “I knew something was wrong with him. I saw him muttering in sign a couple of times, and he said things like ‘ _I hope I don’t see her here’_ and ‘ _I hate him.’_ No normal person says these kind of things. Why didn't I do anything?”

”Me, too.” Ann hung her head. “He dislikes healing so much. I’m not sure why I didn’t act on it, but remember that time I tried to Diarama him against that Mitsuyo Togo woman?” At her teammates’ nod of assent, she shuddered. “Yeah. Not sure why I didn’t do anything sooner.”

Futaba seemed to shrink into her jacket. “Guys... I don’t think I’m supposed to know this, but I managed to wiretap Sojiro’s phone. He went to visit Akira earlier, and... I heard him say ‘ _I won’t let her lay a hand on you’._ Is someone...”

”Abusing him?” Makoto cut in, causing everyone in the group to flinch. “It’s likely...”

”Hey, Ryuji. You knew him first, right? The first day he transferred to Shujin, you met him on the sidewalk.” Ann said. “Did you notice anything off about him?”

”Well...” Ryuji seemed more despondent than normal, clearly recalling their trip to Kamoshida’s Palace. “He was very quiet and withdrawn. Oh, wait. Shit. I just remembered. I raised my hand angrily when I said ‘he treats the school like it’s his castle or something’, and Akira _physically moved away from me_ _._ ” He ended the recount of their first day, clearly still angry with himself. “If only I had known, dammit! I'm blind as a bat!”

No one tried to shut Ryuji up. They all felt the blame on their shoulders.

”Then who is it?” Yusuke broke the silence, fingering the end of his shirt. “Who would dare abuse Akira?”

”Honestly, I can only think of one person. Or, well, two. But only two.” Makoto began, hemming and hawing, trying to delay the inevitable.

”His parents.”

Haru let out a quiet squeak, horrified. “Are you sure, Mako-chan?”

”Think about it,” Makoto reasoned. “He never talks about them. I was with— I hung out with him once, and offhandedly mentioned his parents, how they probably miss him or something. He looked so...  _furious_. I was honestly scared of him, when he had that look on his face. And... it lines up with everything we've learned so far."

Yusuke sighed, clearly disliking the topic at hand. "Well then... who should go and visit him first? I'm loathe to allow all of us go in at once, as not to overwhelm him."

Makoto hesitantly looked at Ryuji, before shaking her head, coming to a decision. "Futaba, you go first. Ryuji... well, he needs to calm down."

"Will you be ok, Futaba-chan? Do you want me to come with you?" Haru looked dubiously at the shaking girl.

Futaba resolutely shook her head. "No, I won't be ok. But I want to see him. He's our leader... we should support him however we can." Steeling herself, Futaba gave a shaky smile to the rest of the group, heading into the elevator.

**With Akira**

Akira startled awake to the sound of knocking on his door. Vocal chords still not obeying him, he shifted in the hospital bed, dislodging Morgana, who went and opened the door (to the best of his ability, anyway). Futaba hesitantly shuffled in, instantly brightening as she saw Akira awake, but sobering up again as the setting reminded her of why he was here.

Blinking back tears, Futaba wearily choked out a question. "Akira... why? Why would you do... that to yourself?"

Akira lowered his eyes in shame, reaching for his phone. " _Regret always comes too late,_ " he thought bitterly. Even now, touching his phone and knowing that  _her_ messages were on there sent shivers through his body.

He opened up his Notes, creating a new one.  _You've probably found out about Sojiro's conversation with me._ Futaba squinted in surprise, gesturing for him to continue.  _Yeah, my parents--_ each word felt physically painful to type-- _did that to me. Since I got into that accident, they sent me away. Best thing they'd ever done._

Futaba sighed, but patiently awaited Akira's entire message.  _Now they just tell me bad things on a regular basis. I can show you, if you want._ Akira felt strangely calm about showing her the source of his breakdowns.

"I mean... if you're ok with it." Futaba gently scooped up Morgana, who mewled in protest but otherwise didn't resist.

Akira nodded, simply tapping open the Messenger app.

" _Worthless brat!"_

_"You bring shame to our family name!"_

_"You don't deserve to live!"_

_"Our life is ruined because of you!"_

_"Just go and die. You're a waste of resources to anyone!"_

 Futaba paled, covering her mouth with her hands. "No... why are they so mean? That's not how a parent should be!"

Akira shrugged, reopening Notes.  _They've been like that for ages. Sometimes, I lose control and believe them. Last time was the worst._ He bit back a sob that threatened to rise in his throat at the memory.  _Sometimes I get angry at them for being horrible. But I'm worthless to them anyway, so it's pointless to think like that._

"Do you... really think of yourself that way?" Futaba squeaked, hugging Morgana tighter.

Akira frowned. Did he? He was tempted to immediately deny her, but after what had happened, he doubted Futaba would believe him.

_I think you and I both know the answer to that question._

"Hey!" Futaba playfully swatted him. "Don't be so--" She cut herself off, however, as Akira flinched away from her, eyes instantly widening. His phone clattered to the floor with a loud  _crack._

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--" Futaba began rambling apologies, shrinking back from him. He tried calmed his racing heart, taking deep breaths until he felt like he could move again. That didn't ease the prickling sensation, however.

He clapped his hands for Futaba's attention, reaching down and picking up his phone.  _It's ok. If anything, I need to stop reacting like that._

Futaba shook her head sadly. Morgana took this chance to leap back into Akira's lap, rubbing up against him. Akira relaxed slightly, contentedly stroking Morgana.

"Umm... Akira? Can I ask you one last question?" Futaba broke the silence, fingers bouncing against her leg. At Akira's nod, she continued. "Remember that time we fought Mitsuyo Togo in Mementos?" Akira's face darkened, but he gestured for her to continue. "I had to continually get Makoto to heal you... you were so reckless and angry. And again with Hanae Oda, Shinya's mom..." Futaba decided to leave the Shadow of her mom out of it. "Is this stuff... related to the relationship between you and your parents?"

Akira felt anger shoot through his body, but stamped it out quickly. His fingers shook when he typed into his phone.

 _Yeah. You could say that._ As an afterthought, he added:  _Wouldn't happen with real people. Just distorted Shadows in Mementos, since they're, well, distorted._

 "You'll be ok, right? Will... this happen again?"

Akira hesitated before typing.  _I don't know. I hope it doesn't, but I can't be sure._

"Ok then." Futaba exhaled, rising from the chair. "The others will probably want to see you. Take care, ok?" With that, she left Akira alone with Morgana and his thoughts.

Akira carefully wrapped his arms around Morgana, who purred and nuzzled himself into Akira's belly.  _Sojiro... and now Futaba... they're willing to help me._

Futaba stepped outside, letting out a sigh of relief. 

_It's not too late to help him._

 


	12. Skull, Panther, Mona, and Fox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild swearing
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Ryuji

**Ryuji and Ann **

“Hey man... you alright?” Ryuji asked, eyes darting between the bandages on his arm and the life monitor by his bedside. “We got here as fast as we could.”

Hearing that sent a pang of guilt through Akira’s body. He hadn’t thought about how his friends would react.

 _Friends are an overrated concept,_ A toxic voice whispered in his mind. _Now that they’ve seen what you’ve done to yourself, they’ll laugh and tease you for being weak. Oh look how their leader has fallen._

_Shut. Up!_

He shook his head, dispelling the last of those thoughts. He was halfway to reaching for his phone when he decided to take a risk. Putting his fingers upwards in a gun shape and pulling the three fingers together, he signed: _No, I’m not ok._

Ann physically brightened, despite the dark tone of his reply, responding in somewhat clumsy sign. _You know sign too?_

 _Yeah._ Akira felt a little lighter. _Why?_

Ann tilted her head away, fingerspelling _Shiho._

“Hey, not to interrupt your hand language or anything, but I don’t understand this. Ann, can you please translate—“

 _Ann,_ Akira winced, _can you tell Ryuji to quiet down? He’s probably waking up the entire hospital._

“Ryuji!” Ann scolded. “Quiet down!”

”Oops, sorry,” Ryuji smiled sheepishly, lowering the volume drastically. “Anyway...” He immediately sobered up, remembering the topic at hand. 

“Why, man? Why do this to yourself? We’re your friends— and we want to help you.” Ryuji’s voice caught a little at the end, making Akira blink in surprise. Ryuji rarely got emotional. “Is this because of your shitty parents?”

Ann gave Ryuji a pointed look, but Akira was already raising his hands. _Yeah. You could say that._

And so he relayed his story to them, with Ann translating for Ryuji. _And that’s how things came to be._ He let out a wry smile. _Guess I should count myself lucky for being sent away._

“Dude...” Ryuji seemed to pulse with anger, but deflated quickly. “Was this why... when you awoke to your Persona, you looked terrifying, Akira. If I hadn’t met you beforehand... I would’ve thought you were the villain. You looked ready to kill.”

 _I guess I was, honestly._ Akira’s eyes danced with regret. _When I was awakening Arsene, I felt powerful. In control, for once. I wanted to take that anger out on them. I’m sorry I scared you._

 _“_ Nah, man. We didn’t know. It’s not your fault, now is it?” Ryuji reassured.

Morgana piped up from underneath the covers. “Can we please stop talking about Kamoshida’s Palace?”

Ann startled. “Ok... then. Also, Akira,” she focused her attention back on him. “I tried to heal you so many times. You took so many unnecessary risks. Even though your Persona knew Mediarama, you refused to use it. I tried to heal you when you were about to collapse, and yet you refuse. Why?”

Akira sighed. _You know, that should be fairly obvious after what happened._

Ann flinched, eyes flickering to his bandages.

 _And... sometimes I believe I don’t deserve anything._ His hands shook violently, but he persevered. _Do I deserve to be healed and whole again?_ _Do I deserve to have the power over the human mind? Do I even deserve to have all of you obey me as a leader? I don’t know. It seems like... too big a responsibility for someone like me. A Trickster. Someone who—_

Morgana gently put a paw on Akira’s trembling hands, cutting him off. “Don’t think like that, Akira. You’re the kindest, most forgiving, smartest, most caring and the strongest person I, and most other people, have ever met. You deserve all the love and care people give you. You’re not useless, nor a burden. We all love you, Akira.”

Hearing Morgana’s words brought tears to his eyes. As ashamed as he would be to admit it, he was starved for positive attention. This was all he’d wanted for years. To be recognised. For someone to tell him that he was worth _something_ in the grand scheme of things. 

Sniffling, he smiled a gentle grin. The expression felt unfamiliar on his face.  _Thank you, Morgana._

Ann nodded in fierce agreement. “We’re all here for you, Akira. Don’t bear this burden by yourself.”

“Hell yeah. We’re not like your shithead parents. We’re not going to do that to you. You’re safe with us, Aki.” Ryuji smiled.

 _You guys..._ Akira paused to wipe a tear from his face, letting out a small yawn. _You... really... think that?_

“Of course!” Ann and Ryuji said in unison, Ann with a hint of indignation. “We’ll always be by your side to support you.” Ryuji finished with a thumbs up, before an impatient knock interrupted the moment.

Yusuke’s voice rang out from behind the door. ”Ann, Ryuji! I have been waiting for quite some time now. May I come in and see Akira?”

Ann looked back to Akira for confirmation. At the tired shake of his head, she called back out to Yusuke.

"Another time! Aki's tired. C'mon Ryuji, let's go." Ann said hurriedly, sensitive ears picking up on the evening out of his breath.

_We can help. It's not too late, and for the sake of us and Akira, I hope we are never too late._


	13. Home, Fox, and Queen (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for child abuse.
> 
> this chapter got too long, so it will be split into two parts.

It was a long few days at hospital, but they'd finally discharged him. Which was a relief, since he could not bear to sit still any longer, or he swear he would go insane. 

“Hey. Kid,” Sojiro began, collecting the last of the paperwork. “You’ll probably have to see a therapist after... this. You know that, right? Also you’ll temporarily be pulled out of Shujin, but you’ll still have homework to do. I imagine some of your friends will pop by to give you your work every day.”

Sojiro didn’t understand sign, so he popped his phone back out again. There was nearly a 1000 words worth of conversations there. _Can I still go and hang out outside? I don’t want to be home alone all the time._

Sojiro sighed, pinching his nose. “I don’t know what to do, honestly. I don’t want to cut off your friends or other activities for you, but... I don’t want a repeat of this, Akira.” He jolted in surprise at Sojiro’s use of his first name. “I just can’t help but worry, y’know?”

Akira subconsciously rubbed his wrists, feeling the rough scabs underneath his long-sleeved shirt. While he did feel guilty for worrying Sojiro and his ( _not-so)_ friends, he couldn’t bring himself to feel regret. Guilt but no regret was odd when those two normally went hand-in-hand.

 _I promise I’ll try not to let this happen again,_ Akira typed, hesitantly. _Even I don’t know if I can stop it, though._

“Alright, then.” Sojiro pocketed the papers. “Let’s go home.”

** Cafe Leblanc **

The rich smell of coffee comforted Akira stepped back into the threshold of Cafe Leblanc. It drowned out the spike of... _something_  he felt at stepping back into _— red lines span his entire arm, excess dripping onto the floor in a small puddle. His head feels light and he’s floating—_

“Hey! Hey, kid!” Sojiro’s voice snaps him back to the present. “Thought I lost you there. You think you can handle the attic yet?” At the shake of Akira’s head, Sojiro nodded resolutely. “Alright then. You can sleep in the spare guest room in my house. Should’ve done this earlier, honestly. Stuffing you into the attic was kind of mean. Here, catch.”

Sojiro tossed a set of keys at him. Even in his injured state, he caught the keys nimbly, silently disappointed that none of their edges were sharp enough to draw blood.

“Your new therapist is Maruki-san. He’ll come by every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, but if you want to see him at other times you can visit him in his office in Shujin after school.”

Yusuke entered the cafe, quietly coming to sit by Akira.

”I’ll be heading out for groceries.” Sojiro busied himself with preparing four coffees. “Kitagawa-kun, please keep an eye on him, alright?”

Yusuke nodded, eyes flickering to the Sayuri painting before landing on a steaming cup of coffee. Sojiro handed him his flat black, making Yusuke smile slightly. Boss already knew all their coffee preferences, since they came so much. He even made it free if they helped out around the cafe later.

Sojiro handed Akira his cappuccino, before striding out the door with a cup of coffee himself, leaving a latte on the table.

The two of them lounged in comfortable silence for a while, sipping on their piping hot coffee. It helped ground Akira in the present, creating warmth that ran through his veins and made everything around him feel more solid and real. 

After a while, he caught Yusuke staring at him. Yusuke caught his gaze and lowered his head, embarrassed. Akira fished out his phone again, half-wishing he could just sign or talk normally.

_Why were you looking at me?_

Yusuke flushed. “I just noticed... you’re so much more relaxed now. Before, you used to be so stressed. I worried about you; we all did.” Yusuke finished his coffee, eyes darting across Akira’s sleeves. “I’m sorry, Akira. We should have helped you earlier.”

_What are you apologising for? I chose to do that to myself. None of you are at fault for that._

“We could have seen what was wrong earlier. The clues were very obvious, in hindsight. We’re your friends, and friends help each other,” Yusuke paused to hold Akira’s coffee-warm hands, turning to stare at him with a passion he typically reserved for art. “We should’ve helped you.”

Akira’s eyes turned watery, quickly escaping Yusuke’s grasp to type another message. _None of you could have foreseen this. You’d never see it coming. Yeah, in hindsight I shouldn’t have hidden this from you, but thanks for the encouragement._

“Regret always comes too late,” Yusuke finished, smiling wryly despite the ominous tone.

The bell chimed again, startling Akira enough to drop his phone. Yusuke snatched it before it hit the floor, turning to see the new arrival.

Makoto waved at the twosome. “Am I interrupting anything?”

”Not at all,” Yusuke gestured to the remaining coffee on the table. “Boss left one for you.”

Makoto smiled, always delighted by Sojiro’s coffee. “So I came to check up on you, Akira, but you seem ok. Anything interesting I missed?”

_Hey Yusuke, you remember the time when we went to a church and we did the passion of Christ poses?_

Makoto choked on her coffee, spraying droplets everywhere. “ _What?”_

Yusuke huffed. “That was simply a way to discover the art of the passion of Christ. Was anything wrong with that? I am an artist, and I need inspiration!”

Akira shook his head fondly, relaying the events back to Makoto.

_So we went to Kanda church in Chiyoda, and Yusuke wanted to get a feel for the passion of Christ. So both of us posed like we were on the cross, and we looked so hilarious. I took a picture of him before some art guy came up and talked to Yusuke. You want to see the picture?_

Yusuke groaned, a strange and foreign sound for him. “Akira, please. No.”

Akira froze at the comment, locked in a memory.

_“Akira, please. Do you want to be in more trouble than you already are?” Osada asked, hands reaching for a belt._

_“No! Mom, please, no!”_

_“Seems I’ll just have to punish you, then.” Osada grinned cruelly, beginning with a kick to his stomach, following up with a whip from the belt._

_It wasn’t very long before the cowering Akira broke, a messy stream of tears dripping from his eyes. “Mom! Please don’t do this!”_

_”Admit you were wrong.”_

_”...”_

_Akira could never say he was wrong. He would never regret saving that woman, even if she betrayed him and testified against him, in the end._

_”Not so heroic, are you now? Pathetic. You just had to go and meddle in adult’s affairs. Any sensible teenager would know that adult’s business are not to be messed with.”_

_“That just makes me want to punish you more!”_

_Akira flinched, raising his hands up to block the blow from the belt, wincing as it scraped the skin away on his forearm._

”Akira! AKIRA!”

He jolted back into the present, hands immediately flying the closest object to him, which happened to be Yusuke’s cup of coffee. Fortunately for him, it was empty, but unfortunately, it broke under Akira’s grip. Some of the shards stuck to him, embedded in his hand, drawing blood.

Makoto immediately leapt into action, running for a wet rag. “Yusuke! Help clean up the shards!”

Yusuke nodded, getting a duster and sweeping up the shards of ceramic. “Makoto, you should help Akira get those shards out of his hand. They look painful.”

Akira wanted to cry. He’s inconvenienced his friends, again. All the time. _He’s just a burden to them, he doesn’t deserve their friendship at all. He’s—_

“Hey.” Makoto cut off his spiralling thoughts, returning with a box of bandages, tweezers, and a wet cloth. “Don’t start thinking. This is going to hurt, but we can’t leave those shards in there. Ready?” At Akira’s nod, she began, deftly removing the larger shards, cleaning the wound with the cloth and applying small bandages. Akira absently wondered why Makoto was so good at this, as she was done within 5 minutes.

Makoto absently wondered why Akira didn’t even flinch when the ceramic shards left his hand.

Once the cleanup was done, Yusuke looked worriedly at Akira, but excused himself, suddenly getting the urge to have some takoyaki. 

“Eccentric as always,” Makoto sighed, dumping the last of the shards into the bin. “Now, tell me about what just happened.”

 


	14. Home, Fox, and Queen (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First mention of Russian takoyaki. Fun.
> 
> Also Akechi.
> 
> This should be the last section of the continuous storyline. I'll break off and only mention individual incidents after this, as writing the entirety of Persona 5 is something I don't have patience for.

_“Eccentric as always,” Makoto sighed, dumping the last of the shards into the bin. “Now, tell me about what just happened.”_

Akira's breathing picked up. He immediately shifted away from Makoto, lowering his gaze to the floor, not even considering taking out his phone to type.  _How do I tell her what happened with my mom? I don't want people to find out!_

"Hey, hey." Makoto soothed the panicked teen, appearing confident for the sake of Akira. "Do you not want to talk about it?"

Akira nodded, face still burning from his breakdown.

"That's ok too." Makoto smiled and carefully handed Akira the rest of his coffee. "Drink up, I know you love Boss' coffee."

Akira did like Sojiro's coffee. It was quite possibly the best drink he had ever tasted, so he took the cup, silently cursing his mildly shaking hands, and gulped down the rest of it's contents. The warmth ran through his body, purging the ice-cold feeling of his flashback.

"Hey, Akira." Makoto called. "I know you don't want to talk about it right now, but this... it's not something to lightly gloss over."

 _I'm going to have a new therapist later._ Akira cut in.  _His name is Maruki-san._

Makoto nodded, satisfied. She drained the very last of her coffee, putting it back in Sojiro's sink, returning when Akira signalled her.

 _Why did Yusuke leave?_ Akira typed, feeling slightly hurt. Silently, he wondered if Yusuke left because he was acting crazy. No one would want to deal with him like that.

Makoto seemed to sense his thoughts, firmly replying, "You know Yusuke isn't really good at social interactions. I think he left partly because he really does want takoyaki, but also I think mostly because he didn't want to embarrass you." Makoto left out some things she knew would trigger Akira into another panic attack again, deliberately skirting the topic.

Akira recalled the lobster incident.  _Did a fine job at that on the beach._

Makoto sighed, shaking her head fondly. "Yusuke is the... weirdest person in our group, not including Futaba when she first came out of hiding." A blush arose in Makoto's cheeks as she remembered the embarrassing memories of the night. "Even being raised as an artist, his behaviour is still pretty extreme."

 _Speak of the devil._ Akira turned, waving his hand to Yusuke who looked much less awkward now that he'd had time to recollect himself. And indeed, Yusuke did have a serving of takoyaki with him.

Yusuke looked affronted, indignantly protesting, "Akira, how am I a devil, exactly?"

 _You know it's just an expression. Also, is that Russian takoyaki?_ Akira raised one eyebrow in disbelief.

Makoto groaned. "No offense to the Russians, but this is just ridiculous. I've seen extremely spicy food before, but Russian takoyaki? Reminds me of the time my sister ate Russian sushi."

_Ok, what?!_

Yusuke took a bite of regular takoyaki. "I'd say the Russian one requires quite a precise and cultured palette to enjoy. Of course, a high amount of endurance is required to even digest such a complex and rich food. In fact, I'd--"

"Shut it, Inari!" Futaba entered the cafe, startling the three of them. "Nobody wants to hear your stupid ramblings about takoyaki."

And then the conversation devolved into small talk. Between Makoto's intellectual discussion with him (as intellectual as you could get with Russian takoyaki, anyway) and Futaba's bickering with Yusuke over the artistic nature of food, the cafe felt comfortable, with just the right amount of noise to relax Akira. It felt... kinda nice.

Makoto, perceptive as ever, smiled softly. "It's nice to have things go back to normal, isn't it?"

Eventually the conversation simmered down, all of them lapsing into awkward silence. Yusuke cleared his throat, feeling quite uncomfortable. "Akira, if you don't mind me asking, what is your opinion of the Sayuri painting? I someday hope to recreate that sense of unconditional love in my work, too."

Akira paused, struggling to come up with an answer that might satisfy Yusuke.  _I... I can't say I like it, honestly. It's just something about that look on her face. It makes me feel... disgusted, almost?  When I look at it, I also feel sort of jealous? I don't know why, but I just do._

Yusuke silently commended Akira for being able to hold his emotions at an arm's length (although he doubted the healthiness of emotionlessness in the long term). What Yusuke now did know was the reason behind Akira's weird dislike for Sayuri painting. 

 _He'd uncovered the meaning behind Akira's art,_ he thought with a flourish.

In hindsight, it was obvious. ( _20/20 for observation_   _skills_ ). Yusuke knew that Akira's relations with his mother left much to be desired... that was what must have driven the fearful, hesitant light into his eyes. Which also meant that Akira disliked the Sayuri painting because it displayed a mother's love for their child, which Akira himself had never felt, leaving him disgusted and jealous. Yusuke had to do a double take at the suggestion that Akira could be  _jealous._ It was an unnatural emotion to be associated with him.

Even still, maybe, one day, Akira would come to appreciate the intricacy behind the Sayuri.

"Oh, yeah! That reminds me." Futaba butted in, oblivious to the somewhat sober atmosphere. "I know we've just finished dealing with Okumura, but who are we going after next?"

"Well... Ryuji did say someone big and influential..." Makoto pondered. "I doubt how effective that'll be, though. Some politician, maybe?"

Akira smiled at the thought of returning to the Metaverse again, performing thrilling stunts and collecting new personas. Especially collecting new personas, which gave him a rush of power each time he successfully coerced them into joining him. The otherworldly nature of Mementoes might also help him get back to... whatever he was, before this. Donning the title of Joker again would certainly help.

_I think we should just lay low for a while and see who comes up. After all, we've only just finished dealing with the last palace._

Makoto nodded in agreement, subtly kicking Futaba under the table when she began to rant about wanting to "explore and hack with Necro!"

Yusuke hummed. "I must say, waiting for the deadline of Haru's arranged marriage is making me quite anxious. Shouldn't the change of heart have happened already?"

 _No word from Haru either._ Akira bobbed his head in agreement.  _What's worse, battling Shadow Okumura himself, or waiting for his change of heart?_ Akira backspaced his sentence, thinking carefully again.  _Is there any news on Akechi-kun right now?_

"Probably," said Makoto, moving to turn on the TV. "Why, are you interested?"

 _No..._ Akira typed carefully, ignoring the suggestive implication in Makoto's tone. ( _He hadn't even met him that long!_ )  _Something about him rubs me the wrong way. I remember when I went on the Shujin radio station trip and met him there. He did voice disapproval of Phantom Thieves, and then expressed interest in talking with me more. He couldn't possibly have known I was a Phantom Thief, but still. I've seen him hanging around Leblanc sometimes, and I think he might be onto us. That was before we took down Kaneshiro, so you wouldn't have been there with us, Makoto._

"You sure about that?" Makoto questioned, looking scared at the prospect of someone uncovering their identities. "Or is that just a hunch?"

 _Just a hunch._ Akira confirmed, still looking apprehensive.  _But it's still something to look out for, I guess._

 

 


	15. Kunikazu Okumura's death

Haru smiled. “Well, that was a fruitful day. Did you have fun, everyone?”

Ryuji groaned, slumping into his chair. “Man, I’m soooooooo tired. I never knew roller coasters could be so intense!”

Morgana snickered behind Ryuji’s back. “Ryuji, it’s just cause you rode on the same ride almost 10 times. I’m surprised you didn’t fall off when it went upside down!”

Ryuji sighed, clearly annoyed by Morgana’s antics. “For real? C’mon, we all know you were addicted to that cat ride.” Morgana let out an offended _hmph._ “Must be nice to see your species again.”

”Ryuji, cut it out,” Ann shook her head, bemused.

”Anyway, this party’s freakin’ amazing! It’s the best one I’ve had by a long shot! Thanks, Haru.”

”I’m glad you enjoy it,” Haru replied politely, hands wringing together worriedly. 

“Guys?” Makoto called, “Isn’t it almost time for the press conference?” 

_Yeah, it is._ Akira typed, showing the notification he received. _Looks like it’ll start now, actually._

All of the Phantom Thieves (sans Mona) pulled out their phones, preparing to watch the live stream. Haru in particular looked quite troubled, seeing her father on stage.

“ _Today, I’d like elaborate on the whole truth behind my company’s labour situation.”_ He began, bowing to the audience. “ _How my employees were forced to work under severe conditions, and how... lax we were with sanitation...”_

_”And how my corporation acted as a whole... to cover up every facet of this scandal. For all of this, I wholeheartedly apologise.”_ Okumura did a 90 degree bow to the audience, eliciting applause.

Akira grinned. Another successful Palace heist, another corrupt heart changed. The Phantom Thieves really were gaining traction.

” _So you’re saying, this was all done under your orders?”_ A journalist asked, camera clicking.

Okumura paused. “ _...Yes. I am... solely responsible...”_

The journalist continued. “ _We have received reports that several dozen workers were forced to resign due to mysterious illnesses. Furthermore, these happened to be officials who stood against your proposal for overseas expansion. The same thing also happened to executives at competing companies who were looking to expand abroad. Is all of this true?”_

Okumura sighed. “ _Yes._ ”

” _Were all of these coincidences?_ ” The reporter pressed on. At Okumura’s ducking of the head, the reporter sternly said, “ _We’d like some answers._ ”

Okumura inhaled sharply. “ _About that... I have a critical piece of information to announce here today.”_

Morgana peered closely at Akira’s screen. “This is what we’re waiting for. Okumura’s going to say who’s really behind the mental shutdowns.”

”Shhhh!” shushed Ann, clamping a hand over Morgana’s mouth. “We want to watch!”

” _I.._.” Okumura began, but soon was interrupted by his hand flying to his chest. “ _Ngh_!” His eyes flew to the back of his head, he himself letting out a piercing scream. “Agh... AGHH!” He writhed in pain for a couple of seconds, before collapsing onto the table, black liquid dripping out of his mouth.

“ _Okumura-san?”_ asked one of the reporters, clearly confused.

With effort, Okumura lifted his head up, black liquid oozing from his pores, dripping down his blank-eyed face. Several people screamed, stumbling backwards and knocking the cameras over.

“ _Stop the cameras! Cut the feed! CUT THE FEED!”_

The livestream went dark, being replaced with cute radio music.

”Huh? Why did he collapse?!” Ann looked confused and frightened, gripping her phone tightly. “Is this some sort of joke?”

”That didn’t look right at all,” Makoto began shakily. “Don’t tell me...”

”Father!” Haru cried, eyes never leaving her phone despite the feed being cut. “Mona-chan, what’s going on?”

Morgana himself seemed perplexed. “No... that’s impossible! We followed all the same steps as before, we made sure we only took the Treasure! Something isn’t right!”

In the confusion and pandemonium after Morgana made his statement, nobody noticed Akira silently slide down in his chair, tears flowing down his face.

_My fault...my fault. I’m supposed to be the LEADER of the Phantom Thieves, dammit! We don’t kill real people. Did I kill him by accident? Maybe I was fighting too recklessly but we left him alive at the end, didn’t we? Oh no, what if it was an illusion, and we actually killed him by mistake? Dammit I shouldn’t have spammed so many multi-target attacks, that was a terrible idea but actually that only attacked the robots protecting him and not Okumura himself so that doesn’t make any sense and  we left him on a sliver of health, I remember ordering Morgana and Ann not to use their -dyne attacks in fear of actually killing him, why why why???? What did I do wrong? Maybe Seth was too powerful of a Persona to use, but there’s no such thing as too powerful, right? What a failure, Haru must hate us now, we killed her dad for god’s sake, she doesn’t have any reason to stay with murderers—_

“Akira! Akira!” A gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jerking violently, his fist was flying towards Yusuke before he could even think straight. Luckily, Makoto restrained his arm seconds before it hit Yusuke, although Yusuke still flinched back.

Akira once again attempted to speak, but his vocal cords were having none of it. Instead, he simply signed a sloppy _sorry._ Makoto, being the intellectual that she was, understood the basic sign and repeated it to the group.

Morgana climbed his way up onto Akira’s shoulder, burrowing his head into Akira’s neck and purring softly, soothing the distraught teen. “Hey, Akira. It’s not your fault! We don’t know what happened either, but remember? He was alive when we left the Palace. You didn’t kill him!”

Akira recovered his phone, typing out a shaky message. _What if we did kill him thouhg? Maybe we were too powreful!_

“Cut it out, man,” Ryuji knelt beside Akira, “stop blamin’ yourself! This ain’t under your control!”

Akira hung his head in shame, still feeling guilty. The Phantom Thief business had been going so well, too, but then they had to screw up and make this mistake. Now their popularity would plummet. More importantly, Haru would want nothing to do with them after they’d murdered her only living relative.

”Anyway, I think we should head home for the day. We should all take some time to... recuperate from this turn of events,” stated Yusuke. “I will be taking my leave now. Be sure to keep an eye on Haru, she seems particularly shaken by the news.” With that, Yusuke left hurriedly, eyes downcast.

”C’mon, Akira,” Futaba called tiredly. “Let’s go home.”

** Leblanc **

Sojiro raised an eyebrow at the two tired teens. ”What’d you two stay out so long for? Partying all night?”

Futaba let out a frustrated sigh, while Akira didn’t react, simply plodding to his room. “Bad day, Sojiro. Akira’s tired, so let him rest.”

”Another panic attack?”

”Almost, but not quite. He was halfway there, though. I’m worried about him, Sojiro. He still can’t talk! It’s been almost 2 weeks now.”

”Futaba,” Sojiro began, feeling a headache begin to form in his temples. “The recovery period for dinferential people varies drastically. He will start talking again, but the... lifetime of stuff he’s been through won’t heal that quickly. Just be patient.”

”Alright, then.” Futaba yawned, reaching for the warm plate of curry Sojiro placed on the counter. “I just... want to hear his voice again. I miss it. Why didn’t he tell us earlier?”

Sojiro sighed. “I don’t know either, honestly. That kid is such a handful. At first I thought he was just wary of his new surroundings, but now... it’s so obvious.”

”Anyway,” Futaba let out another yawn, flipping through the notifications on her phone, “we just gotta hope he’ll be alright.”


	16. School Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves gain a new ally, and several more obstacles along the way.

“Man!” Ryuji groaned, slumping into his chair. “I thought they wouldn’t run out so quickly! This so-called maid cafe is a disappointment.”

Akira rolled his eyes at Ryuji’s immaturity. _Chill out. We are kinda late, though, so it makes sense they’d be sold out._

“Ugh. I guess you’re right, but I hate waitin’! I just wanna try the takoyaki!”

Ann smacked him over the head. “You mean, you just wanna see the maid again.”

”Here’s your takoyaki~!” Their maid waitress returned, holding up a plate filled with takoyaki, with a red one on top. “The red one is a _special_ one. I hope you enjoy!”

Makoto and Futaba collectively groaned. “Not again...”

Yusuke stared at the red takoyaki with interest. “This is Russian takoyaki. It requires quite a precise and cultured palette to enjoy, although high amounts of endurance are required to even digest such a complex—“

”Inari.” Futaba flatly interrupted him. “Not again.”

“So, who should try it? I find it quite interesting that Russians took interest in Japanese culture, and this was created.” Haru cut off Yusuke’s indignant defence, sampling one of the normal ones. “Mmm, they are quite delicious... Akira, would you be interested in trying the red one?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing Akira who had a high spice tolerance.

Akira instantly shook his head. _No. It’s way too spicy even for me, and if I wanted spicy things I’d have Sojiro’s curry._

The loud sound of footsteps _clak clak claking_ across the corridor alerted Akira to another person’s presence. He raised his head just in time to see Goro Akechi, detective prince and guest speaker for tomorrow’s open day, round the corner.

“The panel... isn’t until tomorrow though,” stated Makoto, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

”I came to check out the venue.” Akechi replied politely. “I can’t afford to make any mistakes since there will be a lot of people here.”

”Someone’s eager.” Futaba remarked under her breath.

“But, people ended up recognising me. Everyone bombarded me with questions. I grew tired of the baseless rumours they made up, so I escaped to a place with no people. Ah, hello. Akira, right? We meet again.”

Akira ducked his head, embarrassed that he still couldn’t talk. Akechi looked at him quizzically.

”Uh, Akira... can’t exactly talk right now. Bad throat, it’s still healing.” Makoto lied for him. Akechi nodded in understanding, looking quite sympathetic.

Akechi then noticed the serving of takoyaki on the table, bending over the pick the red one up. “May I have one of these? Let’s just call it my performance fee.”

Haru gasped. “It’s the Russian one!”

Akechi didn’t heed her warning, putting it in his mouth in one fell swoop. Ryuji shushed Ann, who was about to protest, quietly whispering that it was fine.

Akira watched expectantly, waiting for the moment Akechi would realise he’d made a colossal mistake.

”Mm, it’s quite deli— HNNNGH?!” Akechi choked on his words, putting a hand over his mouth, bending over. “My... throat! This is... ugh! My stomach... burns— ugh!”

Ann, ever compassionate, asked, “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

”No... it’s fine, I like, spicy...ugh! stuff... ha... haha...”

”Is it just me, or does he sound broken to you?” Futaba asked innocently, ignoring Akechi’s weak protests.

“I don’t know, but he’s definitely overloaded his taste buds.” Makoto commented, supressing a laugh.

”Ok—okay then... I’ll... see you all.. to—tomorr—tomorrow.” With that, Akechi waddled off, still clutching his stomach.

”Wow, he was really try to hold it together, like some comedian.” Ryuji snickered, grabbing the normal takoyaki. “Eat up guys!”

While everyone clamoured for a piece of takoyaki, momentarily forgetting Akechi, Akira noticed a curious little detail about Akechi. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

His fingers waved up and down by his sides repeatedly, in a sign that could be interpreted as ‘spicy’.

Interesting.

** Day 2 **

“Alright. What did you want to talk about?” Makoto questioned the detective, examining the side room they’d been pulled into.

Akechi placed down three photos, showing Yusuke and Ann materialising from seemingly nowhere. “I have video footage, too.”

“No way! That’s gotta be shopped!” Ryuji said angrily.

“Let’s not feign ignorance here. All of you can go into that other world, can’t you?”

 _So_ _what_ _if_ _we_ _can_? Akira felt confidence rise in his chest, stepping forward, phone in hand.  _How_ _much_ _do_ _you_ _know_ _about_ _us_ , _anyway_?

“As I said, I know everything. I know when you traverse over there, your appearance changes. It’s all because of those... mysterious powers, isn’t it?” Akechi asked, putting the three photos back in his pocket.

”I first found out about the world a month ago.” Akechi showed the MetaNav app to the group. “This had been installed on my phone without my knowledge.”

”That is the Nav...” Makoto exclaimed.

”When the app activated on my own, the scenery around me suddenly changed. Quite frankly, I still can’t believe it myself. But from the looks of it, you’ve all been quite accustomed to it for some time.”

”What’s your point?” Ryuji questioned angrily.

”You all are acting as Phantom Thieves inside the Metaverse. I can say so with conviction because I have the same power as yours.”

_And that power is?_

“The power to summon your inner self, or persona. I had quite the fortunate accident— I got attacked by something in there, and I awoke this power.”

_Fine, then. You’re right._

“So you admit it then. In all honesty, I have been interested in you since the Madarame case. To think it would end up like this...”

Akira remained silent, still feeling the guilt. Haru, however, piped up. “We didn’t kill anyone!”

Akechi studied Haru silently. “Very well. I believe in that, too.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ann asked, looking hesitant.

”Because I believe I encountered the true culprit.” Akechi stated, eliciting gasps from everyone. “The attack that triggered the awakening of my persona... I got attacked by a person in a black mask.”

”For real?”

”Who was it?” Makoto asked.

"I couldn't identify his face... he had a mask on, after all." Akechi said quietly, trying to recall the events of that day. "Actually, when I took those photos, I entered that world too. That's when I noticed someone else moving about, besides all of you. He shot at me the moment he noticed me."

"So that's who killed President Okumura?" Yusuke asked, absorbed by the new information.

"Most likely." Akechi confirmed. "At the very least, I was almost killed by him. 'I can't die here... I must uncover the truth.' Those were my thoughts as I struggled to evade his attacks, and then the most miraculous thing happened. I awoke to that... power, similar to all of your's."

"You have a Persona too?!" Morgana exclaimed, hopping up onto a box.

"This cat..." Akechi tilted his head, examining Morgana. "I swear, it just talked!"

"This is Morgana, our teammate who taught us about the Metaverse," Ann clarified.

"Really? This is unbelievable..." Morgana let out an offended  _meow,_ baring his teeth at Akechi. "Although it is true that you know things I don't... Say, Morgana. Were you also the one who instructed them how to change people's hearts? I experienced that world too, but I haven't solved that mystery yet."

Morgana nodded. "We go into the Metaverse--or as we call them, Palaces,--and steal the core of their desires: their Treasure. And those whose Treasure has been stolen will experience a change of heart."

"Ha. There's certainly no way anyone would have figured that out by themselves." Akechi let out a dry chuckle, pondering the new information.

"Anyway, back to what you guys were talking about," Ryuji cut in impatiently. "Are we in this mess because of that guy?"

Akechi turned to face Ryuji. "Although I don't understand the method, all you do is simply reform people. There is no... death involved. Someone else must be behind the murders. However, the police have decided the Phantom Thieves did it... you'll get arrested, at this rate."

"T-they're going to treat me as my father's murderer?" Haru stammered out.

"I can't overlook such a grave mistake, which is precisely why I want to strike a deal with you. I may be able to save you from this situation."

"A deal?" Futaba wondered.

"I would like you to cooperate with me to uncover the truth." Akechi simply stated, adjusting his gloves.

Yusuke stepped forward. "And if we decline...?"

"Well, then," Akechi smiled without conviction. "I'll just have to turn these photos over to the police, as well as the video."

Akira narrowed his eyes in anger.  _This is no deal; this is just blackmail. That's just cheap._

"Say what you will. This is the method I believe is correct. The justice I uphold will not tolerate criminals who kill people at their leisure."

Akira's eyes swept across his teammates nervously, posture tense.  _I wonder where he's going with this._

"You've heard that Sae-san is the one spearheading the investigation about you Phantom Thieves, correct? The higher-ups are only concerned with settling the case. They want to capture the culprits behind the psychotic breakdowns and end the commotion." Akechi sniffed, fingering at his gloves. Akira's eyes followed the movement. "Those higher-ups are the ones putting pressure on Sae-san. I can only imagine her impatience."

"What of the evidence to prove we did it? How are they intend on obtaining that?" Yusuke questioned, one eyebrow raised. "It's hard to spin it out of midair."

"Even if there is no objective explanation to the method, it's all over once causality is established. Sae-san can't make rational judgements at the moment. If she were to be cornered..." Akechi's voice turned bitter. "She may even make up a confession."

"Make it up?!" Makoto exclaimed in shock. "So all of this is our fault just because those higher-ups think it is?"

"We didn't kill anyone, though!" Ann protested. "And we're still going to be arrested?"

"You'll be found guilty if you're caught, and it will be treated as a very serious crime."

"Bullshit!" Ryuji burst in. "None of that makes any sense!"

"Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do alone to stop the flow of things." Akechi stated, eyes downcast. "Sae-san has changed..."

 _And that's why you want our cooperation._ Akira caught onto the implication in Akechi's tone. 

"Indeed. In return, I'll turn a blind eye to what you've done. Those are my conditions. That said... I ask that you disband the Phantom Thieves after this."

Akira raised an eyebrow, seeming unfazed.  _Guys,_ he clapped his hands for attention.  _What should be do about Akechi-san's proposal?_

Makoto stepped forward. "We don't have to make a decision now, do we? Akechi-san, give us some time to think it over."

"Of course." Akechi nodded politely. "I don't think it's bad deal, though." His tone turned teasing. "Considering this is you we're talking about--" his gaze lingered on Akira, "--I'm sure you'll come to favourable reply."

"Anyway," He shifted his feet. "I'm glad we could talk. It's been a while since I've spent such meaningful time like this. I look forward to your answer. Oh, and about the panel; would it be alright if we ended it now? I'm sure the only reason you invited me was because you wanted intel. My business is concluded here then."

"I'll find a way to deal with it." Makoto answered, sighing as her responsibilities as Student Council President came back to bite her.

Akechi moved to leave the room. Passing by Akira, he whispered, "Are you sure that's why you can't speak? You don't have to lie to me, you know. Everything's in the open now." With that, Akechi and the other Phantom Thieves left the room, leaving dumbstruck Akira and Morgana to themselves. Morgana gestured for Akira to leave, but Akira simply shook his head.

"So you figured it out too, then. It was our conversation about pancakes, right?"

 


End file.
